The Doe and the Wolf
by ithinkimae
Summary: Winter has come, and with it, war. The Reed children arrive at Winterfell to pledge their allegiance. With them comes a childhood friend who challenges Jon Snow's expectations of his own destiny. Jon S./OC AU.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **This is an AU story, thus will not follow events as they play out in the books/tv series. It's also a Jon S./OC-centric story. Happy reading.

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><p><strong>Prologue <strong>

_"To Winterfell we pledge the faith of Greywater. Hearth and heart and harvest we yield up to you, my lord. Our swords and spears and arrows are yours to command. Grant mercy to our weak, help to our helpless, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you. We swear it by earth and water. We swear it by bronze and iron. We swear it by ice and fire."_

**Winter was indeed coming.** War had erupted and favors were being called in. Men were taking up arms in support of the great houses of the land; Baratheon, Lannister, Arryn, Tyrell, Stark, Tully, among others.

If rumors were to be believed, refugees flooded King's Landing at an increasing rate.

Sides were being chosen. Cousins, brothers, sometimes on opposing sides.

The bannermen had been called up.

House Reed of Greywater Watch, Lords of the Crannogmen, from the marshland of the Neck, had been called to pledge their fealty.

To the Starks. To the North.

Meera and Jojen Reed, brother and sister, kneeled before their prince, in the absence of their king. Having just completed the oath in unison.

Bran Stark looked older than his twelve years as he listened to the Reed's pledge. "House Stark is grateful for your loyalty. We are pleased to have your allegiance. You are welcome to Winterfell."


	2. One

**A/N:** Just to preface this chapter, the characters of Jojen and Meera are not exactly in keeping with the books-nor are the events to come. I'm using them as a means to tell Ara's story so I hope that makes sense... and doesn't annoy anyone too much! Happy reading :)

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><p><strong>-<strong>  
><strong>One<strong>

It was expected that the Reeds would pledged their fealty to Winterfell, to the Starks. Lord Howland Reed of Greywaters was one of Lord Eddard Stark's closest friends after Robert's Rebellion; they were the two survivors that had escaped the siege at the Tower of Joy where Eddard Stark's own sister had died. Such an experience had bonded the two men and now Howland Reed had sent his son Jojen and daughter Meera to Winterfell to reaffirm that bond forged many years before.

What wasn't expected was that they come to stay at Winterfell indefinitely. The party was made up of the two Reeds, a handful of guardsmen and Greywater's master at arms' daughter, Arabel Ressurier. The small troupe had made their way via the Kingsroad to the north.

The journey was not a long one but some enjoyed it mow than others. Jojen and Meera, both of them small, stocky, and strong had no trouble keeping the grueling pace the guardsmen had set, for fear of assault on the open road. Meera especially seemed to be built for the feat. Arabel was used to watching her as they grew up in Greywater, excelling in every physical challenge set in front of her. At 15 she could best any boys her age in swordplay. And she made no apologies for that.

Friends and sisters since childhood, Arabel championed her opposite and Meera did the same for her.

The ride to Winterfell had exhausted Arabel, but as she stood in the hall with Meera and Jojen and the Starks and their men, it seemed the journey had only invigorated them. Arabel stood behind the Reeds, and took in the hall of Winterfell. It was sparse and dark, save for the long head table where the various members of the Stark household were arranged, and a few torches on the walls.

Arabel could barely keep her eyes open and wished she could be dismissed; what ever the Reeds; pledged was her pledge as well. She was merely an auxiliary member of of the party. As the Maester of Winterfell and the Reeds conversed, Arabel studied the lords of the house where she was to now stay.

Bran, prince as was his title now, was only a boy but badly wanted to do his duty well from what Arabel could see, and after the brutal death of his father, she did not blame him. He looked well beyond his dozen or so years. The Maester and Ser Rodik Cassel, as they had been introduced, flanked the boy prince and the youngest Stark sat with his elbows on the table, too young to care about what was going on. Arabel sympathized most with him.

But someone else caught her eye.

A boy, perhaps her age or a year older, stood behind the table but at a distance from the others. His black hair fell in waves and was much too long, giving him a raffish look. Arabel took him to be a guard like the others in the hall but he wore no armor. He must have felt her watching him, and she dropped her eyes when his dark ones met her gray. Abashed, she wished again to leave.

Meera's voice brought her out of her brooding. "We bring with us Arabel Ressurier daughter of one of my father's most trusted men, Whynt Ressurier of Greywater. She more makes up for the delicacies that my brother and I lack." Meera turned and smirked at her- teasing Arabel of what she called her refined and all to feminine tendencies; which were not too genteel at all. Only in comparison to Meera.

Arabel crinkled up her nose in disdain to Meera before she stepped up next to the Reeds.

"Lord Stark," Arabel curtsied quickly.

"Welcome." Bran said.

Arabel inadvertently looked the dark eyed boy again and found his gaze resting on her. She looked away again feeling embarrassed.

Bran followed her glance. "I'm sorry," Bran motioned the youth towards him. "This is Jon Snow, my half brother. He also helps with the running of Winterfell along with Maester Ludwin and Ser Rodick. That is, until he goes the Wall to take the black." His last word were said with dejection.

Jon gave a tight smile and nodded to them.

Jojen's ears picked up on that, "To be part of the Night's Watch? How terribly exciting!" The thirteen year old loved the thought of adventure just as much as his sister.

"Exciting, but a very noble cause, Jon Snow." Meera said, amending her brother's exclamation.

Jon Snow wordlessly nodded.

"We will be very sad to see him go." Ser Rodick remarked. He stood from his post at the table. "You'll be shown to you rooms, no doubt you'd like to rest. If you're feeling up for it we've arranged a very modest banquet in your house's honor."

The trio thanked them all and were taken to their respective rooms, Meera chattering the whole time excitedly. Meera and Jojen decided to explore the grounds but Arabel declined, longing for only a warm bath and comfortable bed.

Meera and Arabel walked a few paces behind Jojen to the hall for the feast.

"I think it may seem discourteous for you to forgo dinner, Ara." Meera said, referring to Arabel's previous plan to keep to her room for the night, she still felt weary from the trip and had not been able to rest very well earlier. "The Stark's are being kind by honoring us."

"Honoring you and Jo, I'm just here… just here." Ara paused then scoffed at Meera's comment, "And I thought _I_ was the one that had social tact, not you!"

Meera rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes very well. I relinquish my right then so any social graces henceforth." Her green eyes sparkled with glee. "Anyway, you look very nice tonight. I suppose you mean to show up us Reeds!"

Ara glanced down at her gown. She only had a couple nice dresses and she had decided to wear one supposing she would have little opportunity in the cold and isolated land of Winterfell. Her dress was a warm velvet of a very deep blue, nearly black. A crimson sash around her waist accentuated her willowy frame. She had worn her long, curling, coppery hair down, her usual fashion.

"I could never show you up." Ara said truthfully. It was had to show up so determined a girl who could succeed in just about anything she tried. "But thank you."

"I wonder if anyone will notice I'm wearing the same clothes I arrived in." Meera laughed. She didn't wear a dress tonight, instead wore britches she was used to wearing a Greywater but Ara couldn't fault her; it was much more suitable when riding a horse or practicing swordplay than a dress. Not to mention Meera's small stocky build was flattered more in pants than dresses.

When they arrived at the hall, Ara noticed the additional tables and lit candles, giving it a warmer feel than earlier.

Jojen and Meera were seated at the high table while Ara sat at a table with knight's wives. Ara had always been aware of the difference in rank between the Reeds and herself but it was times like this when was more acutely felt. But Ara made polite conversation with the older women around her and every once and a while looked over at Jojen or Meera and made a silly face. As dinner proceeded though, it was harder to get either ones attention as they seemed to be in an animated conversation with Bran Stark, all three oblivious to anyone around them.

Ara sighed. She looked up at the head table again, this time curious to see Jon Snow, the boy with the serious face and black eyes that seemed t absorb her. She quickly scanned the table, not wanting to be conspicuous but didn't spot him. She did however see a sleeping Rickon being carried out of the hall by an oaf of a man. Ara yawned, yearning for sleep too.

As the hour grew late and the merrymaking onset, Ara decided to make her escape. She assumed her friends were not leaving the feast anytime soon, she excused herself to the ladies she sat with and left the hall. As she walked through the end of hall she felt someone try to grab her hand.

Startled, she snapped it back and saw offender was a lad of no more than twenty who had over served himself.

"Excuse me, sir," she said, he voice barely carrying over the din of the hall.

He gave a slovenly smile. "Beg your pardon, miss. I just had to see if you were real or just an illusion." Embarrassed, Ara backed away from him and heard his companions laugh boisterously. If possible her face reddened even more. She turned and hurried away but not before she heard the man try to continue his speech, "Your beauty-"

Once out the hall Ara ducked into the nearest corridor and held her head in her hands. _I want to go home_, she thought, upset. Alone and embarrassed, and having a tendency to feel things more keenly than others, nearly brought her to tears. She waited for the waves of unease to subside before she continued back to her room.

But she halted as she heard voices approach.

"You know- since Robb and the others left there's been no one to spar with and one of the Reeds' men told me both are well-trained. And you won't find a better hunter than the girl."

It was true, both of them were equally deft and Meera's hunting mastery was unparalleled at Greywater.

"Which girl?" The other voice asked.

"The Reed girl." There was laughter in his voice, "you don't think the other one with them was made for hunting do you? She looks better suited for an ivory tower. Pretty, that one but looks like you could break her."

The other made no reply.

The man laughed again. "You say more with your silence than your speech, Snow." Just then she could hear the footsteps coming upon her.

A tall boy with ashy blond hair and a ruddy face turned into the corridor with Jon Snow.

Before she could address them the boy she did not recognized excused himself. "Snow, I'll see you at the yard tomorrow." Ara did not miss the cheeky grin that played on his face. Her turned to her, "excuse me, miss."

Ara smiled hesitantly at the boy before her. "Were you not at the feast tonight?" She asked genially.

"I was," he stated, and for a third time his dark eyes held her in place. Though upon examination Ara realized the were perhaps not black but certainly the darkest brown she had ever seen.

"Oh, I didn't see you with the others."

"Bastards are not usually saved a place at the high table." He said without a trace of bitterness.

"How impolitic of me, I'm sorry," she paused unsure of how to address him, "Mr. Snow."

"Jon." He corrected her. He was unabashed as he stared at her in their silence. Ara, however was more self-conscious.

"Well," she started, both wanting to return his gaze and anxious to escape it.

"Can you handle a sword?" He asked casually but she knew he must already know the answer.

Ara cocked her head to the side. "No more that I assume you can handle a needle."

Jon chuckled and shook his head. "Fair enough, in any case, Prast- one of the men here- has heard _shocking_ rumors that your Reeds are the best swordsmen left in the North. You should come to the yard tomorrow to watch, if nothing else it will be a good show."

"It's a show I've seen many times. Though I know the outcome, it's always interesting to see how it plays out. Perhaps I will come to see Meera best every man at Winterfell."

He feigned offense but smiled, "oh but you're never seen Jon Snow with a sword. I'd say you should put your money on him." His demeanor was bold, with something daring in his eyes as he leaned toward her.

"We shall see tomorrow. Goodnight, Jon Snow.


	3. Two

**TWO**

Ara awoke late in the morning to the sound of dogs baying outside. She left her bed, surprised at how warm her room was despite the chill she knew the outside air held. She dressed herself in a simple woolen gown and took her cloak with her as she left her room.

Not surprisingly, she received no answer when she knocked on both Meera and Jojen's doors. No doubt they were already out and about. _Having risen with the sun_, Ara thought.

She maneuvered through the complicated passages until she finally came to the hall which seemed to be filled with petitioners for the prince. Knowing she would not find her best friend there, she wandered outside where she heard the familiar clashing of wood against wood. Ara followed the noise to the source where she saw Meera dominating a boy who was a good two heads taller than herself.

Ara joined Jojen with the two of the Reeds' men who had stayed behind at Winterfell as the looked on from the side.

Jojen whooped as Meera served what would have been a fatal blow if they had not been using practice swords. He yielded.

"Have you had a go yet?" Ara asked Jojen as they watched the boy get to his feet and exchanged a friendly handshake with Meera.

Jo nodded. "One round but," he held up his hands helplessly.

She smiled knowingly. "This is Meera's stage."

Meera sauntered up to them. "Sorry I didn't wake you earlier, your highness. But some of us had plans to trounce every willing man here by noon." Meera's face was red with exertion, her brow perspiring. She nudged Ara, kindheartedly.

"Then I suppose I haven't missed anything."

Meera wiped the back of her hand across her face and tossed the wooden sword to Dake, one of the Reeds' guard. She flicked her thick brown braid over her shoulder and stood with her arms akimbo surveying the yard.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day, Ara?" She glanced over to Ara whose wide gray eyes were thoughtful.

"Maybe visit the library here, I hadn't really thought about it yet."

Jojen and Meera exchanged an exasperated glance.

Ara rolled her eyes, "fine, what did you two have in mind?"

Before brother or sister could fill her in on their plans, Jon Snow approached them, a large white wolf at his side.

"One more contest before you pack it in?" He asked Meera quietly.

She grinned and took her sword again.

"I've been waiting for a real challenge and I was told you're the best left at Winterfell."

He smiled slightly and looked upon Ara for an instant. "Well you can be the judge of that." He said with a shrug. The pair walked back to the center of the yard where Meera had, moments earlier, bettered another lad.

Swords drawn, the two exchanged quick jabs, testing the other's return. It continued for a bit, the two measuring the other in hopes of finding a weakness. Ara watched Jon and saw he did what Meera's other opponents failed to do: study her and not just attack blindly. Meera was light on her feet and small- she could dodge and sidestep much better than the boys who had been twice her size. Ara had even seen her do a backflip while in the midst of a fight though that had been more arrogance and to bewilder her partner than anything else.

Meera had one weakness, that Ara knew, and that was she could never match these boys, almost men, in strength. But she was careful not to put herself in a position to have to reveal that.

Jon was matching Meera parry for parry and did not show signs of tiring as those before him did. For a moment he seemed to be closing in on her but with masterful strike and a jump out of his reach, she avoided the blow.

"Ha!" She exclaimed and smirked.

She took aim at him again but just as she lunged at him she brought down his sword to what would have ended the melee. Meera brought up her sword to stop him, gripping it with both hands over her head, but instead of pulling back he leaned into it forcing Meera to use every ounce of strength to hold him off.

Meera grunted but must have know it was over. She wouldn't say yield.

"Yield?" Jon asked.

Meera gave one last push before she nodded.

The opposite side of the yard erupted in cheers and hoots of victory- as though they had all forgotten Meera had already beat every man.

Scowling, Meera shook Jon's hand. She was not a gracious loser because she had never had to be. Meera stalked back to the side where Ara stood with the others.

She walked right past them towards the castle, incensed. Ara put a hand on her shoulder. Meera shrugged it off. "It's fine." She said tersely without looking at her.

Jojen shook his head. "Meer certainly didn't expect that. I've never seen her so cross." He too went toward the castle with Dake.

Rueful, Ara slowly walked in the same direction.

"I told you, didn't I?" Jon Snow fell in step with her again his wolf at his heels. His size enough scared her. Ara shuddered.

"She's not used to losing like that."

"I can tell. She couldn't even yield." He said without hesitation, his confidence seemed to have increased after the bout.

"She's never had to. There's nothing wrong with that; she doesn't like to give up." Meera's pride had just been severely hurt- Ara couldn't help but defend her.

"She's incredible, I'll give her that but she doesn't know when to admit defeat." Jon looked at her with a shy smile. "Anyway, a few of us were going to ride out to the Wolfswood this afternoon, Bran needs to practice his riding outside of the yard here. You should join us." He glanced at her sideways.

Ara stopped at the large oak door. While she knew she couldn't expect him to understand the chink he had effectively put in Meera's armor, she was nonetheless miffed he didn't see the damage he had done. "Thank you but I cannot." She turned on her heel leaving him behind her.

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

It was the next morning before Meera left her room. Ara was in the solar, embroidering but trying only to pass the time while Meera sequestered herself and Jojen joined Bran in his studies.

Meera came in and inelegantly dropped into a seat. Ara looked up at her and was glad to see the scowl from yesterday was absent from her face.

She sat her work down. "Thank god you've come out- I've had no one around and nothing to do."

Meera glanced down at the stitching, "and this was the best you could come up with?"

Ara shrugged. "I don't know what to do with myself here. It's not home."

"No," Meera agreed, "it's not home." Home at Greywater was certainly different. It wasn't so far north, nor so cold or isolated. But was missed most of all was the familiarity and family.

The both were quiet with their own thoughts for a moment.

"Anyway, stop whatever nonsense you're doing now and let's have a little adventure, shall we?"

Ara was happy her friend's gloom had passed. "Let's go."

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

"Jo and I found ruins the first day we came. I think we're heading in the right direction." Meera led Ara through a wooded area. Ara was just happy she wasn't being made to hunt with Meera, which never ended well.

"Do you want to talk about yesterday?" Ara ventured. Though Meera hadn't mentioned it she knew her well enough to know it weighed on her mind.

"No." Meera stopped and turned to Ara, a screwed up look on her face.

"If you do, I-"

"Ugh, fine!" Meera kicked a wayward stick in her path. "It's not fair."

"You were alone in your room all day yesterday and that's the best you could come up with?"

"Well, it isn't! Boys get everything- they can do anything, be anything. You and I, we don't get that option! It was one thing I was good at and that stupid Jon Snow had to ruin it for me. Now no one will take me seriously!" Ara couldn't help but hear a petulant child's whines, not a 15 year old.

"You're good at everything you do- you beat 5 of them before Jon bested you."

"He **didn't** best me. Anyway, it wasn't like a real Stark beat me. He's baseborn."

Ara was taken aback by Meera's offensive comment. "Meera! You're angry but it's not like you to be so disrespectful, whatever he is, _whomever_ he is you should treat him no differently than anyone else."

Meera only dismissed that, hating to be lectured. "It's true though, and I've heard that Catelyn Stark is open with her disdain of him."

It seemed Ara had underestimated truly how wounded Meera was, but she didn't think it gave her an excuse to talk in such a way.

"I won't listen to this, and I can't believe you'd even say such things. You accepted his challenge- no one forced you. I'm sorry you're not used to losing. But maybe it's good for you to get a taste of how the rest of us mortals feel."

Meera narrowed her eyes. "Oh! So now _her highness_, is a mad that I get to have this one thing?"

Ara snapped. "Stop calling me that!"

"Well everyone has always treated you like a princess! It's no different here than it was at home," Meera screwed up her face, "'Arabel is _so_ pretty and had _such_ lovely manners.' And it must be nice to have everyone fawning over you- just like at home!"

Meera poked poked Ara's shoulder hard. "And you're like a sister to me- you're supposed to take my side. I would take your side in anything."

"I'm _always_ on your side." Ara glared at her. "But you're acting insufferable."

Meera pshawed at that and started to walk away.

"Meera!" Ara called after her.

Meera took off, running.

xxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxx

Three days had passed without Meera so much as looking at Ara. Stubborn as ever, Ara knew that she would have to be the one to extend the olive branch. But any attempt at reconciliation have so far been thwarted. Or less thwarted, and more flatly ignored. After a particularly uncomfortable breakfast where Meera had pointedly asked everyone except Ara to go riding, she escaped to the library.

The library at Winterfell was much larger than Greywater. The library tower's walls were lined with volumes of books reaching well above her head. Light poured in through the diamond shaped windows up near the ceiling giving the tower space of light.

She scanned the titles, unsure of what she was looking for. A bench scraping across the stone floor caused her to look up.

Jon stood at the desk arranged in the middle of the large room. "I didn't know anyone was in here."

"I just wanted to see how much more impressive the library was here."

Jon moved toward her and looked up at the tower shelves himself. "And?" He asked.

"Well I've only ever seen the library at home. This... it's incomparable really." She walked along the perimeter, her fingers tracing the spines. She turned to him. "Starks put a lot of stock in pedagogy for Northmen."

He just nodded at that. "What are you reading?" Ara walked over to the desk where Jon had been moments before. She picked up the book.

"_8000 Years of the Night's Watch._" She looked at him and remembered the comment Bran had made when he introduced him. "Do you really intend to join?"

"As soon as my uncle returns to Winterfell he'll take me to Castle Black." His dark eyes had a certitude in them that she dare not challenge.

"An honorable calling. Seems a bit bleak though, doesn't it?"

Jon shook his head vehemently. "Men are need up there. I'll have a purpose up there. Something I seem to lack here."

"Why do you say that? Your brother seems to need need you here, and I imagine your older brother could use such a strong fighter in the south."

"Bran has men more capable men to counsel him. And Lady Stark would have me at the front lines, it would be an affront to the other lords to have Lord Stark's baseborn son involved in anything more than an average soldier."

"I'm sorry about your father." Ara said after a moment.

He grimaced. "They have Sansa and Arya too, the Lannisters will pay for what they've done. Robb's force will be sure of that."

"I'm sure he will. But you must see why your brothers need you here, not at the Wall. Your family-"

"You don't understand." He said stubbornly. "There aren't a lot of places in the world for a bastard without any parents."

Ara realized just how much of an issue this for him, she cursed herself so being so thoughtless. He was almost a man and certainly didn't need input from her, a near stranger.

"You're right I don't understand. I'm sorry, it's not my business at all." She put the book back down and moved away from the table, annoyed at her own behavior. It wasn't in her nature to be so vocal nor so presumptuous.

"It's all right. I really haven't talked to anyone about joining since my uncle suggested I join." His face which usually seemed stoic softened. "How do you find Winterfell?"

"It's different than home, I find myself getting a bit lost though. But it's nice."

He timidly smiled at her. "We're glad to have you here." Once again his dark eyes held hers but he didn't look away, he instead regarded her. She felt her breath catch, feeling like he could see into her, like he was reading her. She was uncomfortable with shaken with his look.

Ara felt her cheeks color under his scrutiny. She squeaked out a thank you and fled the room, unsteady and confused.


End file.
